


Where It Counts

by Ginipig



Series: Cullistair One-Shots [7]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Miscommunication, post-Adamant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:41:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22298752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ginipig/pseuds/Ginipig
Summary: After the battle at Adamant Fortress, Alistair must go to Weisshaupt to report to the First Warden. But first he has to tell Cullen.
Relationships: Alistair/Cullen Rutherford, cullistair - Relationship
Series: Cullistair One-Shots [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1604995
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Where It Counts

Alistair took a deep breath before knocking on one of the doors to Cullen’s office. He was about to have the hardest conversation of his life.

“Enter,” Cullen said in his Commander Voice.

Alistair did, and before he could even say anything, Cullen stood abruptly — not even wincing at the painful-sounding _thump_ Alistair heard — and rushed around the desk. They met in the middle of his office.

Cullen placed a hand on Alistair’s upper arm, much to Alistair’s chagrin. That would just make this all harder.

“How are you holding up?” Cullen asked. His tone was soft and sincere, and it made Alistair’s heart ache.

“I’m fine,” he said, shrugging off Cullen’s hand.

Cullen’s brow furrowed. “I’m sorry I didn’t get to speak with you much during our return march from Adamant. I tried to find you several times, but —”

“You were busy doing your job,” Alistair said. “I wouldn’t have been much company anyway.”

In truth, since Adamant, he’d been avoiding Cullen. He’d been avoiding everyone.

“I always enjoy your company,” Cullen said. “And you shouldn’t have to go through this alo —”

“I’m leaving,” Alistair blurted.

Cullen blinked and shook his head slightly. “For where?”

Alistair knew he wasn’t being fair, dropping the news on him like this, but it would be easier in the long run.

For both of them.

“The Anderfels. The Wardens at Weisshaupt need to know what happened, and this isn’t exactly something I want to put in a letter so it can be ignored like everything else I’ve sent them.”

“I see.” Cullen seemed wrong-footed, which was probably for the best. Rip the bandage off quickly, and all that. “That’s quite a long way. When do you expect you’ll return?”

“I won’t.”

Cullen’s jaw dropped, and Alistair took in every expression as they crossed his face — his mouth moved wordlessly, his head tilted, his brow furrowed, he closed his eyes and shook his head for a moment, and then he blinked.

“You won’t —” Cullen looked away, as if struggling to understand, and then back to Alistair. “Why?”

 _Because I love you_ , he wanted to say. _Because I was stupid and fell in love when you clearly stopped at friendship, and it hurts too much to be around you when I know you’ll never feel the same._

Instead, he gave the (also true) justification he’d practiced in his head.

“I don’t know what orders I’ll get at Weisshaupt.” He was proud that his voice never wavered, even as the pain formed cracks in his heart. “They might make me Warden-Commander and charge me with rebuilding our ranks, or send me to track down more information about Corypheus, or keep me there to help. Or just order me to keep fighting darkspawn, like always. ‘Go back to Skyhold’ is almost definitely not an option.”

Cullen’s expression, usually neutral around others, frequently revealed his internal emotions to Alistair. Whether Cullen had learned to lower his guard around him or Alistair had just gotten better at reading Cullen, he didn’t know.

What he did know was that right now, Cullen’s face fell, and his amber eyes shone more brightly than they normally did.

“Perhaps if the Inquisitor wrote —”

“I don’t answer to the Inquisitor,” Alistair said. “The Wardens don’t answer to anyone.”

“But the Inquisitor could _recommend_ —”

“I’m leaving, Cullen.” Alistair’s voice came out more harsh than he’d intended, and Cullen actually jerked back. Why was he making this so difficult? “I’m a Warden, not a member of the Inquisition. My stay here was always going to be temporary.”

 _Until I realized I love you_ , he wanted to say. _I’d stay for you if you asked, Wardens be damned._

And that was why he needed to get out of here. Before Cullen made him change his mind. This was the best for both of them.

It was the logical thing to do. He just wished he didn’t have to break his own heart to do it.

Cullen’s eyes were shut tight, but he nodded. “When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow.” Painful but quick. Rip off the bandage.

Cullen’s eyes shot open. “So soon?”

His voice wavered dangerously, and so did Alistair.

No. He had to stay strong. “The First Warden needs to know as soon as possible.”

“So send a message and follow in a few days,” Cullen pleaded, grasping Alistair’s hands in his. “Then we — you can have more time to say your farew —”

“No!” Alistair jerked his hands away, backing up. “I’m sorry, Cullen.”

“Please don’t go.”

Alistair spun on his heel and headed for the door.

“Alistair, wait!”

He was turning the handle.

“I love you!”

Alistair froze, unsure if he’d heard that right. He turned his head just enough to see Cullen in his periphery. “What?” he asked, breathless, as his heart raced.

Cullen’s boots clomped several steps closer. “I love you,” he said softly.

Alistair turned around, still not believing his ears, and met Cullen’s amber gaze for an instant. It was filled to the brim with desperation and hope before Cullen bowed his head.

“I — I’m sorry.” Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, shaking his head at the floor. “I didn’t want to tell you this way. I’d hoped that once we returned from Adamant, we could —” With a sigh, he ran his hand down his face, straightened, and looked at Alistair once again, expression and tone neutral. “I understand you must go. We all have our duty. But I —” He blinked rapidly several times and cleared his throat. “I couldn’t watch you walk out of my life without telling you.”

Shocked, Alistair slowly shook his head.

This time, Cullen’s face didn’t fall so much as plummet off the edge of the mountain, and so did the remaining pieces of Alistair’s broken heart.

“I don’t expect you to say or feel anything in return. I only —” In nearly the same motion he always used when pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance, Cullen rubbed his eyes with two fingers and a thumb. Voice thicker than it had been before, he continued. “You have been through so much, and I want you to know that I —” His hand ran from his eyes up and through his hair, mussing up his fastidiously straightened and flattened curls. “I wish you every happiness, Alistair.” The stern, always controlled voice of the Commander of the Inquisition finally broke, but he continued valiantly as if it hadn’t. “Anyone would be lucky to have you. I hope you find someone who will treat you like the brave, funny, intelligent, caring man that you are. You are worthy of love, and you deserve nothing less.”

Alistair stood stock still, stunned into silence.

How was it possible that Cullen felt the same way? Alistair had tried to flirt and make innuendos and invite Cullen to eat with him or have a drink or spend time together, and it had all been for naught. He’d started to pull away not long before Adamant because Cullen had made his lack of interest clear and Alistair knew that even if he made it back to Skyhold alive he would be required elsewhere before long.

And now, just when Alistair had given up hope, Cullen was confessing his love?

He should say something. Anything. But he couldn’t.

Why now? He _always_ had something to say, even if it was a horrible joke.

Cullen’s shoulders slumped, and he said, with apparent difficulty, “I should let —” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Let you go,” he whispered.

No.

Those beautiful golden eyes rose to meet his in what he worried would be the last time. “May the Maker watch over you, Alistair.”

And then Cullen turned away.

No!

Finally, something moved. It wasn’t his mouth, but it was the next best thing.

His feet.

He stumbled his way across the room toward Cullen. It wouldn’t end this way. It couldn’t.

Cullen turned, blinked to find Alistair so close, and started to say, “Alist —”

But he didn’t finish.

Because Alistair might not have been able to say something, but he could _do_ something.

He threw his arms around Cullen’s neck and kissed him.

For a second, Cullen froze, clearly — and sadly, because how could he not have known how Alistair felt? — surprised by this sudden turn of events.

In the next moment, Cullen sighed and relaxed into the kiss. The tension left him in an instant, and every bit of him worked to bring Alistair closer. He turned his hips so that they fully faced each other, spreading his legs slightly to make room for Alistair. His arms wrapped tightly around Alistair’s back, pulling him gently but unquestioningly against his chest. His head tilted so their mouths could slide together, his lips pressed against Alistair’s and parted so their tongues could explore.

It was all Alistair could do to keep standing, when his entire body felt like melting into a puddle at Cullen’s feet.

Because this was what he’d always wanted. For Cullen to know how much he meant to Alistair and to feel the same way for him in return. For all the feelings he couldn’t describe to be explained in kisses and snuggles and hugs. For all the words that never came out right whenever Cullen was around to be rendered unnecessary.

Alistair always had too much to say, except when it counted.

And Cullen. Well, he always had too little to say.

Cullen broke their kiss. “Please don’t go, Alistair. I can’t lose you.”

Except when it counted.

Alistair grinned and dove back into the kiss, sliding a hand into his pocket for the token he’d brought with him even though he worried it would jinx everything.

A single red rose.

Thedas wasn’t in the best state right now. Red Templars were on the loose in Orlais. A Tevinter magister had nearly taken over Ferelden. The Wardens had nearly obliterated themselves and countless innocents, and one of the original darkspawn was wreaking havoc everywhere, both in and out of the Fade.

But Alistair didn’t care. Because for him, right now, being held and kissed by Cullen, his life was everything he ever wanted.

At least where it counted.


End file.
